


what's a puff of smoke compared to a thick smouldering bonfire?

by frosti (kittenonmylaptop)



Series: character introspection [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Character Study, Drugs, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, In a way, Introspection, Traumatized Tommyinnit (Video Blogging RPF), Underage Smoking, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:48:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29581902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenonmylaptop/pseuds/frosti
Summary: •Tommy looked over the remains of the once beautiful country, idly taking puffs of the smoke. He thought about all that had happened, and what led him to this fate. Did he do something to deserve this? Tommy sighs, breathing out smoke. His own recklessness led to this demise, he reasons. Karma’s a bitch that’s selective in their servings, and they do not serve those that do not deserve.- - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -Tommy smokes in hope for escape, and reflects on how he ended up here.
Relationships: None
Series: character introspection [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2173311
Comments: 2
Kudos: 87
Collections: Completed stories I've read





	what's a puff of smoke compared to a thick smouldering bonfire?

**Author's Note:**

> \- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
> TW:  
> literally everything from the exile arc. abuse, underage drug use, drug use in general, self blame, war, violence, etc. if you couldn't handle that arc, then you most likely won't be able to handle this fic. 
> 
> \- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
> 
> hi  
> sorry it's kinda short lol i'll be posting more works soon
> 
> not beta read, each time i pulled up my doc to write this it was at 1am or later so apologies for any wonky sentences or bad grammar. if you see it no you don't.
> 
> I swear to god if i tagged something wrong or missed a tag im gonna beat my wall like dream beats his minors

Tommy leaned against the wooden fencing surrounding the crater that used to be named L’manburg. He had slid on one of Wilbur’s old beige, patterned jumpers. It was too cold to wear nothing but his usual shirt, and he had nothing else that could potentially warm him up. His hand held a small packet of thin cylinders typically illegal for someone his age- but that meant nothing now. It wasn’t hard to get his hands on some cigarettes, not with all the drug dealing and shady business that occurs on this server. Hell, Tommy used to be the vice-president of a country founded on the illegal substances, so he had a few connections. He figured that there wasn’t any harm in trying them out, his lungs are most likely already destroyed from all the smoke and gunpowder he’s inhaled. Not to mention the wars or beatings- it’s a wonder he’s lasted so long. Though, he supposes, that’s what everyone’s wondering. Even the remnant of his insane brother, and Tommy isn’t talking about Ghostbur. Plus, people start on cigarettes for a reason. Apparently it was because of the nicotine, which relieves stress somehow. Not that far-fetched, not when he’s seen much stranger. The breeze chilled slightly; causing Tommy to scowl, and tug his black beanie down over his ears more.  
  
He fiddles with the packet, playing with the lid slightly before just opening it and pulling one of the sticks out. He’s seen Wilbur do this many times, Wilbur’s _made_ him do it once. Well, made is perhaps an exaggeration, but saying no to something the man you admire with your whole heart is something virtually impossible. Tommy’s done it before, yes, but they were either jokes or unreasonable situations. Things like smokes, which can barely harm you with one puff, don’t warrant a decline. At that time, Tommy had choked on the smoke. Now Tommy stands in burning, smouldering pits without coughing once. Definitely bad for his health, but hey, what can he do about it now? Get chemotherapy for potential cancer? Have a lung transplant? Fat chance. Even if he were to get a transplant, everyone here has equally fucked up lungs.  
  
The stick slides into his mouth, him pulling out a flint and steel from his pocket. The wind causes the flame to putter out instantly after lighting a couple times, but eventually he manages to slide the flame over to the cigarette without it going out. He slides the lighter back in his pocket, before taking a long drag of the cigarette. Exhaling, he leans back on the wooden fencing. The smoke from the cigarette felt… different. Better. It wasn’t as thick, without the lingering taste of gunpowder and burning shrapnel. It made him feel much nicer as well; he felt lighter, and his senses were honed and sharper. He felt slightly happier too, and the feeling of smoke going down into his throat was a bit soothing as well. It was something about the familiar, idle sensation that calmed his unknowingly frayed nerves.  
  
He understood why Wilbur smoked now.  
  
Tommy looked over the remains of the once beautiful country, idly taking puffs of the smoke. He thought about all that had happened, and what led him to this fate. Did he do something to deserve this? Tommy sighs, breathing out smoke. His own recklessness led to this demise, he reasons. Karma’s a bitch that’s selective in their servings, and they do not serve those that do not deserve. Perhaps once or twice they may mix up their orders, but defeat after defeat surely doesn’t occur unprovoked.  
  
Funny, how Karma decides to dish him a win only when he’s under Dream’s influence.  
  
Perhaps the green bastard is correct in his teachings.  
  


Tommy takes another drag from his cigarette, expression numb as he idly glances around his surroundings. The cigarette has burned down to halfway, Tommy notes. He wonders where the time went.  
  


He wonders where his life went.  
  
Any opportunity at a future is most likely gone now. What future would even await him after this? _What will happen 10 years from now?_ It’s strange to think about, after all these wars it’s hard to imagine much else. He’d probably be dead, honestly. To think anything else seems unrealistic. Tommy gives a light snort, at the image of a 27 year old version of himself. He doesn’t know if he’d even be able to move on from war. He’s trying, but it’s hard, settling for peace. Something new, unusual, unreliable. Unpredictable. _Unknown._ _  
_ _  
_ Frankly, he has no idea how he’ll handle it. The hotel’s been working so far; it’s been busying him, giving him something to focus on. After that though, he doesn’t know. He’s used to the constant vigilance, constant threat of attack. The thrill of the battle, the swing of his sword.  
  
The endless stream of slurred apologies falling from his lips as he’s beaten bloody on the shores of a beach.  
  
Dream.  
An interesting character Tommy’s not sure he ever sorted out in his head.  
He knows now, he’s bad. He’s been told so, he knows so, it’s evident in the scars on his body and in his mind.  
  
But sometimes his brain likes to tell him otherwise. Sometimes his brain likes to keep him bedridden with the weight of Dream’s words.  
  
_“I’m your only friend Tommy. No one else cares. They would’ve visited if they did.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“See, this is why no one likes you. You’re lucky to have me.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“Oh, stop complaining. This is for your own good.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“After all I’ve done for you, you couldn’t do_ **_one thing_ ** _for me Tommy!”_ _  
  
_

Sometimes that line echoes in his head as he tries falling asleep, burdened with guilt over lying to his friend. Reasonably, he knows Dream was never his friend. He knows Dream didn’t care, or cared in his own possessive way. Focusing on the menial tasks Sam Nook assigns him can sometimes help keep the demons at bay, but sometimes they only worsen it, with echoes of how useless he is and how long he is taking. Sometimes, the idle motions give way for thinking and reflection, having nothing to focus on in the simple act of plucking a flower.  
  
Sometimes, it isn’t only Dream who echoes in his head.  
  
Sometimes it’s Wilbur, telling him _let’s be the bad guys,_ telling him how much of a _worthless traitor you are I bet you’re just planning to run off with Schlatt and leave me behind aren’t you?_

  
Sometimes it’s Tubbo, promising that they’d stick through thick and thin, then turning his back with words of _Dream, please escort Tommy out of L’manburg_ , escort Tommy out of the country he lost two of his lives for, out of the country he founded on the basis of freedom with his now lost brother, out of the country he’s a _liability_ to despite having made it.  
  
Sometimes it’s Technoblade, telling him _You want to be a hero Tommy? Then_ **_die like one!_ ** _,_ staring Tommy in the eyes as he wipes Tommy’s own blood from his face, unwounded in the devastating corners of _The_ **_Pit_ ** _._  
  
Sometimes it’s everyone, collectively turning their backs, turning a blind eye to everything Tommy is and making up their own versions of him to suit them and what they want. It’s them believing he’s an annoying child who needs to be beaten black and blue until he learns. It’s them believing he’s power-hungry and selfish, only friends with them to use them for personal gain. It’s them believing he’s a troublemaker and the one who starts all the conflicts, the one at blame, someone who deserves all that’s been thrown his way.  
  
It’s them all forgetting he’s a person too, and he has emotions and motives, and all he desperately wants is to be _heard_ .  
  
He wants a language other than violence to exist in this god-forsaken server.  
  
He want’s L’manburg’s value that _we fight with our words, not with our fists, for we are better than that,_ back.  
  
And sometimes, sometimes it’s Tommy, staring down into the ashes of all his work, all his memories, all his _Wilbur_ , and asking _why couldn’t you have been better? Why didn’t you stop this? Why didn’t you_ **_try harder_** _?_ Because, no matter how hard Tommy tries, it’s never enough.  
  
Tommy sighs, flicking the butt of the nearly-burned out smoke into the crater of what once was and what could’ve been.  
  
He understands why Wilbur smoked, now. _  
_

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading ahaha 😏  
> comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!! bookmarks and subscribes too
> 
> even comments like "h" or "g" make me happy, because it shows you liked it even if it isn't a sentence!!
> 
> if you have any constructive criticism i'll gladly take it, the main reason why i write fanfics (or specifically oneshots) like this is to work on my writing skills and discuss character thought patterns
> 
> i will most likely be writing oneshots like these of other characters as well !!


End file.
